


A Date With Destiny

by Galen_Wordwyrm



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, F/F, Lila Rossi Bashing, Post-Canon, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24088387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galen_Wordwyrm/pseuds/Galen_Wordwyrm
Summary: Marinette has to confront years of bullying and open up to new beginnings.
Relationships: Chloé Bourgeois/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 60
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maddiebug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddiebug/gifts).



> Before you dive headfirst into this train wreck, go read the rather enjoyable 'Better Late Than Never ' by maddiebug.
> 
> Seriously.
> 
> Otherwise you're going to be so lost.

Marinette stared at the reflection in her vanity mirror, searching the earnest blue eyes that stared back at her. “What am I doing?” 

It had been a nightmare of a week. Lila Rossi, daughter of an Italian diplomatic attaché stationed in Paris had spent an entire school year scheming, lying, and deceiving people around her in a calculated campaign that had resulted in Marinette's expulsion and eventual return to school.

Somewhere in that whirlwind of confusion, betrayal, and exoneration Marinette and her long-time rival, the blonde, wealthy heiress Chloé Bourgeois had reconciled more than a decade of bitter jealousy, and Chloé had come out to her, and Marinette revealed she was bi to Chloé. 

Then that kiss. In front of the entire class. And Adrian. 

Marinette groaned in frustration. “Why did I ever agree to go on a date with Chloé?”

“You seemed pretty excited about it at the time", Tikki tittered. Marinette glared at the tiny immortal spirit that enabled her transformation into her superheroine alter-ego.

“You’re not the one who can’t do a thing with her hair", Marinette grumbled, pulling a brush through lustrous blue-black hair for the third time that afternoon. “And I’ve got nothing to wear! Chloé lives and breathes high fashion.”

“Its just a date, Marinette", Tikki chided, floating in mid-air. “It’s not like she’s going to propose to you.”

“Ack!”

“Calm down, Marinette.”

*-*-*

You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at her, but Chloé Bourgeois was a nervous wreck.

She stood on the pavement outside one of the more exclusive bistros in Paris, glancing frequently at her gold Cartier watch, increasingly concerned, pretending an air of detached indifference while she awaited the arrival of Marinette DuPain-Chang, her former nemesis, a small white paper bag with gold lamé loop handles dangling from her fingers.

‘She’s going to stand me up, I just know it', Chloé thought to herself. 

“Hi! Hope I’m not late!”

Chloé almost didn’t jump out of her skin when Marinette announced herself from behind Chloé. “Eep!”, she squeaked.

Turning to look at her date, Chloé cast an appraising eye over Marinette. Blue-black hair in her typical twin short ponytails, sapphire blue eyes shyly smiling. A darling vintage black bolero jacket over a scarlet silk cami top and fitted white capris, stylish black sandals on her feet, toenails varnished to match her top. 

“Urf?”, Chloé ventured, smitten.

Marinette snickered. “Chat got your tongue?”, glancing at Chloé's bespoke saffron yellow sundress that enhanced the faint golden tone of her skin, calves appealing due to the white high heels Chloé wore.

“Here”, Chloé thrust the bag at Marinette, a touch of colour rising in her cheeks.

Hesitant, curious, Marinette looked in the bag, lifting out a small white jewelry box. “I didn’t get you anything”, she confessed.

“It’s okay”, Chloé replied, hiding her disappointment.

“This is so weird", Marinette admitted, fiddling with one of her ponytails nervously. “We went after each for years, and here we are. On a date.”

Impulsively, Chloé took Marinette by the hand and led her to the podium where the maître-d' stood patiently. “Table for two. Something with a view.”

“But of course, Mademoiselle Bourgeois. This way, s’il vous plaît.” The maître-d' led them through the scattered tables to the patio, where the girls each sat at the presented table.

“It’s a ring!”, Chloé blurted out. “In the box.”

Marinette twitched. 

“Why are you trying so hard?”

Chloé let out a shaky, self-conscious laugh. “Hard? You have no idea! My mother thinks money is the only thing that matters, daddy is obsessed with position and appearances.”

“Breathe, Chloé.”

Marinette opened the ring box, examining the contents. A simple bright silver band, set with a small faceted sapphire an two tiny diamonds, one on either side, flush with the surface of the band. It fit perfectly on her pinky.

“It’s gorgeous. But I can’t possibly-", Marinette blushed. 

“You can and you will, DuPain-Chang”, Chloé insisted, twisting her napkin into submission. “It’s not much, a token of apology for being such a bitch.”

Marinette took a sip of water, thinking.

“This is weird”, she pointed out again. “I always thought my first date would-"

“Be with Adrian?”, Chloé grinned impishly.

“God, yes!”, Marinette burst out laughing. “Can you imagine the disaster that would be? Me falling all over myself, him trying desperately to be ‘Mister Cool'?”

Chloé’s shoulders shook, using her hand in a failing attempt to conceal a grin. “Alya with her mobile in the background, shooting video for her blog", she giggled.

“Lila ready to eat broken glass in jealousy!”, Marinette hooted, drawing disapproving looks from other bistro patrons.

Their hands touched across the table.

Shocked silence.

“Why did I spend all that time being jealous of you?”

Fingers intertwined.

“I was jealous of you, too.”

The kiss was sudden, lunging, hungry, nibbling, gentle.

Two pairs of blue eyes, staring at each other.

“Where did that come from?”, Chloé whispered.

“I have no idea.” Marinette was breathing fast, confused, excited.

The waiter cleared their throat politely. “If the young ladies are quite ready to order…”

Blushing, Chloé and Marinette suddenly found their menus infinitely interesting.

*-*-*

The setting sun painted Paris gold with it's fading rays, Marinette and Chloé ambling close together in the cooling blue shadows, hands clasped, heads tipped towards each other, chatting quietly, laughing softly with each other. Chloé carried a rolled-up sketch of the two of them drawn by a street artist, Marinette sniffing a rose plucked from a vendor's stall.

The quiet of the evening shattered by a thunderous explosion and the discordant tinkle of raining glass. Alarm bells clamored and sirens shrieked as the girls ducked instinctively, trying to protect each other from flying debris.

The figure that strolled arrogantly out of the billowing cloud of smoke was a sneering, chalk-faced pencil-moustached caricature of a calculatedly indifferent Parisian street mime, leather attaché cases in either hand bulging with stolen cash.

“Bomb Voyage!”, Marinette snarled in recognition.

“Stand aside, insignificant trollops!”, the internationally notorious villain ordered.

“What did you just call my girlfriend?!”, Marinette bristled as she handed off her precious rose to Chloé.

Chloé grinned wickedly.

“Kick his ass, baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas and Sabine were both tending the counter in their bakery when Marinette breezed in, more smiles and sunny attitude than they had seen in the weeks since the entire Lila Rossi-engineered school expulsion fiasco had come to an abrupt end. 

“Isn’t it an absolutely wonderful day?”, Marinette giggled as she whisked past them, heading for the residential part of their building. Tom and Sabine stared after Marinette, looked at each other, then peered out the windows into the unseasonable drenching downpour outside that had water running finger deep in the street.

“She’s absolutely head over heels in love", Sabine observed straight faced.

Thomas nodded, silent.

Upstairs in her room, Marinette skinned out of her soaking wet clothes, dropping them in a hamper before drying her hair and pulled on comfortable track pants, well-worn t-shirt, warm fuzzy socks, and hoodie, flopping down on her chaise to look at her mobile.

*How wet are you?* Marinette tapped out the message.

Buzz-ping. 

She giggled at the reply, *Rude! LOL!*

The attached picture showed a smirking Chloé Bourgeois, looking more like a drowned rat than the elegant daughter of the former Mayor of Paris. Marinette's mobile pinged as a second text arrived.

*Girl, where have you been?!* Alya.

Marinette tapped her screen. *Out*

Buzz-ping. 

*Wanna hang?*

More tapping. *Sure*

Buzz-ping.

*See you in ten* 

Fifteen minutes later, a damp-haired Alya poked her head through the hatch into Marinette’s garret bedroom. Marinette waved to the honey-eyed Martiniquan-French young woman to enter. Alya sat beside her reclining best friend.

“You’ve been seeing a lot of Chloé.”

“Mm-hmm”, Marinette nodded, smiling impishly. ‘If you only knew', she thought to herself.

Alya gazed out the window beside Marinette's desk into the pouring rain. “Still have time for your bestie?”

“If I can pry you loose from Nino occasionally", Marinette countered. 

Alya had the decency to look chagrined. The fallout from Lila Rossi's campaign of lies and deceit had been extensive, and almost ended several relationships, including her’s and Nino's. “Ouch. Point taken.”

Slightly strained silence. 

“Movie?”--“Are you jealous?”, they both said at the same time, Alya looking embarrassed, Marinette faintly scowling.

Alya flicked a glance at Marinette, but couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Kinda", Alya finally admitted. 

Marinette sighed, wounded. “We both know Lila is a narcissistic psychopath. I should’ve been able to count on your support.”

Alya nodded, staring at the floor. “I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

Marinette shifted, sitting up to hug her best friend, who leaned into it, grateful. “Trouble child", she playfully mocked. “Young Frankenstein?”

Alya nodded. 

Halfway through the movie, Marinette's mobile buzz-pinged. She glanced at it, paused, staring at the display, blushing, hurriedly burying the device in the cushions.

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Spicy?”

“Hush, you!”

Laughter pealed from Alya. Then Marinette, until they both had tears streaming down their cheeks, laughing uncontrollably. 

*-*-*

Two weeks.

Chloé blinked, not quite believing. She had been dating Marinette DuPain-Chang for two weeks, and her life was a complete, utter, delightful, confusing shambles. Mother was distant as always, but now she acted as if Chloé had some taint only her mother could perceive. Daddy was scandalized that the sole heir to the Bourgeois family fortune was openly dating someone of the same gender. 

Chloé was revelling in the drama. She was in control. She thought.

A handful of coffee dates, one shopping trip that had ended in a shouting match, two strained cinema dates, getting caught in a downpour, and a shambolic nightclub crawl that had resulted in a furtively quiet and excitingly desperate make-out make-up session in Marinette's bedroom while her parents were home had finally led to this.

An intimate candle-lit dinner for two on Chloé’s private patio. Catered by the Bourgeois family restaurant.

Everything was perfect. The unpredictable autumn weather had even blessed her with a warm late afternoon of clear blue skies.

So why was she shaking inside?

The chime sounded, announcing someone at the door. Moments later Jean escorted Marinette in, bearing a wrapped bottle. She was wearing a strapless scarlet cocktail dress with a beaded black shawl draped over her pale shoulders.

“Umm, here", Marinette eloquently mumbled, holding it out to her blonde girlfriend. “Happy Unbirthday.”

Chloé scoffed affectionately, unwrapping the gift. “Imported sparking pear juice?”

That quirky, lopsided smile made Chloé’s heart race. “Yeah. I… was kinda in a rush to get here, because...reasons.”

“Akuma?”

“Nerves. Panic attack.”

“You?”

A scowl. “I’m not perfect, Chloé. You know that.”

Chloé slipped an arm around Marinette's waist, pulling her in for a chaste kiss. “No. You're a mess. But you're my mess.” 

“We’ve been dating for two weeks--"

“Known each other for more than ten years.”

“And were at each other’s throats more often than not. Chloé, this is still very new to me. I’m gonna screw up. A lot. I don’t want us rushing things. I care about you, probably more than I should at this point.”

Chloé gently bumped foreheads with her rival cum girlfriend. “You’re overthinking it. Let’s enjoy our night.”

“Okay", Marinette blushed. God, that made her so adorable.

“Besides, I’ve already got our China pattern picked out. We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Chloé!!” Indignant.

Laughing, Chloé led Marinette to the dining table on the patio, bottle in hand.

*-*-*

The sky had faded to a glorious royal blue pricked with glimmering hints of starlight after a riotous sunset of gold, scarlet, and pale cream. The evening lights of the Paris had started to glow in the distance as the two young women leaned on the parapet of the patio, wine glasses of fizzy pear juice in hand as they gazed at the city, hips touching.

“That’s one hell of a view. A girl could get used to waking up to that now and then.”

“I think it’s…miraculous”, Chloé smiled mischievously.

“Don’t tease, Chloé. It’s bitchy of you.”

“Sorry. Habit.”

A kiss. Tender. Forgiving. Marinette slipped her arm around Chloé’s hips.

“Why me?”

Chloé glanced sideways at her girlfriend. “Seemed like a good idea. Still does.”

“That’s not an answer.”

A sigh. Chloé leaned heavily on the parapet. “You’re always there for people. Even at our worst, you still tried to be there for me.” Chloé drained her glass, letting it dangle precariously in her fingers. “If you ever tell anyone else what I’m about to tell you, I’ll never forgive you. Ever.”

Marinette nodded. “You have my promise.”

Chloé stared out into the night. “I…have some serious abandonment issues. Like, major ones, thanks to mommy dearest. So…I push people away. I leave them before they leave me. But not you. You clung on like a goddamned tick.”

Marinette rested her head on Chloé’s shoulder. “I trust too easily, jump to conclusions, and hate liars. You never lied to me. Even when we…”

Chloé nodded. “Refill.”

Marinette complied, then returned to cuddling Chloé, who actually leaned into it.

“We're total opposites. We clash. We compete. And…I can’t go a day without thinking about you. I can go days without seeing or talking to Alya or Adrian. I don’t remember the last time I had coffee with Rose, or Juleka, or even Luka”, Marinette explained quietly. “You're not a drug. You're worse. And better. I strive more, try harder, because you push me. You piss me off in a thousand little ways, and I want to show you I’m just as good as you are, just as pretty, just as capable. You're oxygen to my fire.”

“Fires burn out, you realize that?”, Chloé observed clinically. 

“Not if you keep adding fuel.”

“You’re utterly infuriating and impossible, DuPain-Chang”, Chloé said, turning in the embrace to stare into sapphire eyes gone cobalt in the night. “And…I love you.”

Lips met, questioning, tasting, gentle nipping of teeth, soft, exploration of touch.

“Hold on…” Marinette slipped out of the embrace for a moment, retrieved her mobile, tapping at it.

Music.

Marinette drew Chloé close, inviting her into an intimate, gentle slow dance step as the introduction played out.

“Aquarius…”, Marinette sang along to Chloé.  
“Was born the night,  
The shining stars,  
Needed brighter shining light…”


	3. Chapter 3

Paris had settled into a typical leaden autumn, the numerous trees almost stripped of leaves that now littered the streets like so much discarded confetti. Buildings that had shone like gold and ivory in in the summer now tarnished silver and old bone.

More than a month had passed since Lila Rossi had flamed out spectacularly in her bid to become the focus of the class social circle. Chloé smiled at the memory of bringing that deceitful little bitch down, stirring her coffee. The little café she had found was now something of a refuge from her former life.

“Hey.”

Chloé looked up at the intrusion. 

“Oh. Adrikins. Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you around a whole lot recently”, he fumbled. “You…doing alright?”

Chloé scoffed. “Moi? I’m super. Busy though. Classes, therapy, dating your missed opportunity, working. You?”

“Father still has me booking shoots solid, hardly a chance for my own thoughts.” Hand on the back of his neck, chagrined. “Look, can we…talk?”

Chloé shrugged, indifferent. “Shoot yourself.”

Adrian sagged into the decorative cast aluminum chair opposite, signalling for a coffee. 

“You look like crap, Adrian.” Chloé had noticed the dark hollows that professionally applied make-up almost couldn't hide, the faint tremor in his hands. “Catting around all night and working all day isn’t burning the candle at both ends. It’s tossing it on a bonfire.”

His head snapped up at the cat reference. How did she—

“I’m not the pretty little idiot everyone thinks I am", Chloé smirked, flicking her ponytail.

Adrian's fist clenched, out of sight beneath the table. “What’s your game, Chloé? What do you want?”, he hissed.

The blonde heiress leaned back in her chair, sipped her coffee, smug, confident. “I’ve got what, no, who I want.” 

“Mari--"

“Is my girlfriend”, she cut him off, smile like saccharine. “You snooze, you lose.”

Adrian glowered. “If you hurt her…”

“Worse than you did?” Chloé leaned over her cup. “You weren’t there, consoling her, as she cried her damn eyes out when Rossi knifed her in the back! You ignored her when she went out her way to make sure your birthdays were memorable. You don’t get to say. One. Damn. Thing. Now.  


“Yes, I did some really shitty things to her a while back, and I have one hell of a debit in my karma column because of it. But at least I’m doing something about it. You had your chance, pretty boy. You blew it.”

“God, you really are a bitch!”, Adrian spat. 

Chloé’s smile was predatory. “I’m going to give you some advice, free of charge. Find a hotel room. Turn off your phone. Get some damn sleep. And grow a goddamn backbone.” 

Adrian stared at her, green eyes wide in shock, as Chloé rose and gathered her belongings.

“One last thing, Adrikins”, she paused, pale blue eyes cold as a glacier. “You're still her friend and mine too, god knows why, and we watch out for you, but if you cause a scene, try to come between her and I...?”

“I will cut you.”

*-*-*

Marinette jumped when the hatch to her room flew open, banging on the floor as a visibly irate Chloé Bourgeois stomped up the steps.

“Your almost ex is an idiot!”

“Hi, Chloé, how was your day…”, Marinette recited as though cueing a forgetful performer.

Chloé blinked, suddenly realizing her girlfriend was standing there in nothing more than black satin thong panties and short white singlet that exposed her midriff.

“Was tonight date night?”

Marinette lifted her hand, showing off the silver band on her pinky. “Thirty days ago. One month since I went insane and said yes to your invitation.”

“Oh god, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t even get you any flowers”, Chloé apologized, embracing Marinette.

“Ack! Get off!”, Marinette pushed Chloé away, the blonde looking hurt and confused. “You’re cold and wet.”

Chastened, Chloé kicked off her shoes and hung her overcoat.

“What’s this about Adrian?”, Marinette inquired once they had settled on the chaise.

“Calvin Crime-fighter thinks he has a perfect work/life balance--"

“Says Miss Over-Achiever…”, Marinette deadpanned.

“Don’t be petty. That’s my shtick”, Chloé grumbled. “In any case, he showed up, wanted to get all angst and mopey. You know how he does.” Marinette nodded, encouraging Chloé to continue. “I wasn’t in the mood for it. Then he tries to get all high and mighty about hurting you!”

“He meant well?”

“He had his chance!”

“No, he didn’t. Not really.”

“You’re defending him?!”

“Nope.”

Chloé huffed, arms crossed. “I don’t want to argue.”

“I’m not dressed for a fight anyway. I thought you’d ‘spotted’ that”, Marinette poked Chloé in the ribs with a finger.

Chloé snickered. “You’re barely dressed at all.”

“You arrived early.”

“Change of plans?”

Marinette lay back, far too enticing. “Take out and a movie?”

Chloé tapped a finger on her chin, considering. “I could do Chinese.”

“You already do. Enthusiastically.”

“You’re bad", Chloé grinned.

Marinette sat up, embracing her girlfriend, kissing the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her lips, hand gently combing blonde ponytail loose. “You’re very good.”

“Your parents…”

“Double date night. They’re eating out. Won’t be back until late.”

“Marinette…?”

“Hmm?” More gentle kisses.

“Do you love me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Chloé gasped as Marinette kissed her throat.

“Say it?”

“I…(kiss)…love…(kiss)…you…(kiss)”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I warn y'all this was going to be a train wreck?
> 
> Buckle up...

The classroom was mostly quiet, just occasional sounds of keypads tapping, someone clearing their throat, or shifting to get more comfortable. The whispers and comments that had flowed in a ripple when Chloé and Marinette strolled into the class holding hands were now the occasional disbelieving furtive glance as the two former rivals sat together, sharing notes as the students worked on their assignment.

Chloé glanced at her girlfriend when the first distant sounds of shattering glass reached them, and Marinette's head snapped up, fist clenching.

Chloé tapped Marinette’s knuckles gently, a subtle shake of her head.

Disbelief in Marinette's blue eyes.

Chloé lifted a finger. ‘Wait', she signalled.

The sounds of mayhem increased, screams faintly heard now.

Chloé closed her eyes, wincing, hand on her abdomen, a warbling groan from between gritted teeth.

“Are you in distress, Mademoiselle Bourgeois?”, their professor mocked. If looks could kill, the one Marinette shot at him would have been instantly fatal.

“Cramps!”, Chloé gasped.

Professor Gruyere ‘tsk'-ed. “I’m not interested in your female complaints. DuPain-Chang, take the drama queen to the infirmary. Go.”

Marinette escorted a hunched-over Chloé hobbling out of the room. Out of sight around two corners, Chloé straightened up, smirking.

“God, you even had me believing you were actually cramping, you little witch!”, Marinette snickered. “And I know your cycle.”

“You needed camouflage to go do your goody-two-shoes act”, Chloé grinned. 

“Alleged goody-two-shoes.”

Chloé kissed her. “Bullshit. Go transform.”

Marinette turned to do just that, was suddenly yanked back into a fierce, demanding kiss. 

“You die on me and I will fucking kill you!”

Marinette playfully nipped Chloé’s lip. “Ooo, someone worried about me?”

“Terrified. Every time you do this. Go before I change my mind and sit on you.”

*-*-*

The battle had raged across half of Paris. Fires burned, consuming entire blocks, traffic hopelessly snarled as the population tried to flee in panic. Chat Noir had punked out twice, his Cataclysm power deflected or diverted. He’d even run out of sass, seduction, and stupid puns. Now it was nothing more than desperate scrambling to survive.

Ladybug's costume was shredded by talons, bare skin showing in several large gaps, one of her trademark ponytails still trailing acrid wisps of smoke from where the akumatised villain's caustic spittle had come very close to ending the fight permanently. 

They were trapped in the Tour Montparnasse. Again. This time in a sound recording studio.

Chat had collapsed, panting hard. 

“Run, milady. I’ll hold Fangirl off.”

“And leave you behind, scaredy-cat?”, Ladybug quipped. “You’ve got a broken arm, and probably some broken ribs too.”

A rattling, sibilant hiss like a broken steam pipe said the science-fiction inspired horror of the akuma-mutated Fangirl had found them. The doors to the instrument-cluttered recording studio weren’t going to hold out for very long.

“It’s been one hell of a run, hasn’t it?”

Ladybug glanced at her fellow superhero, who shrugged. 

“Our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

The doors were simply torn out of the wall, the nightmare of claws and armored chitin plate filling the gap, slime drooling from too many, too-sharp crystalline fangs. 

*-*-*

Chloé pounded up the stairwell, blonde ponytail flying like a battle-flag, grateful for the endless hours of dance practice that had left her with legs she could crack walnuts with, skidding through the doorway, racing down the hall, heart pounding, tears blurring her eyes.

‘That stupid little girl is going to get herself killed!’, she thought.

A ratcheting, nerve-tearing screech told her where to find Marinette.

Cornered. Bleeding. Trapped.

Beaten.

The nightmare of chitin swiped with it's talons, tormenting the defeated superheroes.

It had no idea Chloé was there.

The incredibly expensive classical Taylor acoustic guitar shattered on the akuma's back, stunning it.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BITCH!!”

Fangirl turned. Who dared interrupt her in her moment of triumph, succeeding where every other akuma had failed?

Chloé stood there, breathing hard, decapitated music stand gripped in hand. Defiant.

Fangirl screeched in rage and challenge, arms wide, head thrown back.

Chloé brained the horror with the weighted base of the music stand swung like a baseball bat, dancing away from the wounded nightmare as it gushed acid that burned through the floor.

“Fuck you", Chloé spat, panting.

Chat was limp, passed out from shock.

Ladybug looked up, dazed, exhausted. “Chloé? What…?”

Kneeling beside her wounded girlfriend, threatened tears finally spilled down Chloé's cheeks. “My god, baby, you’re a mess. C'mon, sit up. I can’t carry both you and the chew-toy.”

Ladybug struggled to lift her yo-yo. “Akuma…”

Chloé looked around, spotting the tiny terror as it fluttered away, swatting it with the yo-yo, guiding Marinette's hand, reeling it back.

“Buh-bye, butterfly…” Fading. 

“No! Don’t you dare! Stay with me!”

“Lucky…Charm…” Barely a whisper.

A rush of scintillating scarlet energy, all the damage undone. 

Chloé rocked her girlfriend, gently. “Help is coming, baby. Don’t you leave, you hear me?!”

Ladybug whispered something.

“No! You say it again! Make her hear you! Louder!”

“Ti..Tikki…Spo…Spots off." A flash of pale rose. Marinette lay in Chloé’s arms. 

Moments later a burst of pale green, and Adrian let out a feeble groan.

“Goddamn it, chew-toy, you have the world’s worst timing!”, Chloé sighed in exasperation, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's up for some comfort?

The hatch into Marinette's room lifted, just enough for Chloé to peek in.

Her girlfriend had fallen asleep on her chaise, the book she’d been reading fallen to the floor, blue-black hair tousled, right leg in a polymer walking cast fastened with Velcro. Her duvet had almost slipped off. She’d be chilled.

It had been a week since the Battle of Tour Montparnasse.

Chloé opened the hatch, looping the stay to keep the hatch from banging on the floor and waking Marinette, placed the tray bearing the meal Chloé had the hotel restaurant prepare on the floor, then entered the room completely, quietly closing the hatch.

Early evening rain pattered on the roof.

Chloé snugged the duvet up around Marinette, gently caressing her cheek with the back of her fingers.

“My poor girl…”

Marinette shifted in her sleep. A quiet mumble.

Chloé carried the tray and placed it on the desk next to the computer, and sat in the red office chair, staring out the window at the rain.

The streetlights had come on by the time Marinette shifted position.

“Chloé…?”

The blonde heiress padded over to kneel next to the chaise. “Hey, baby. How Are you feeling?”

Marinette ran her fingers through Chloé’s blonde hair. “S'pretty when you wear it loose.”

Chloé caught Marinette’s hand, kissing the knuckles. “I love those blue eyes of yours. Like a sky I want to fall into forever.”

“You'd fall off the planet”, Marinette snickered softly.

“You’re my world. Fair trade.” 

“M'hungry.” 

“You mom wouldn’t let me in unless I brought food.”

“She’s a good mom.”

“The best. She raised an amazing daughter”, Chloé smiled, tears brimming, helping Marinette sit up, adjusting pillows to support her, then fetching the tray. 

Marinette tried to focus while she ate. “Ugh. I hate these painkillers. They wipe me out, and everything tastes like paste.”

“Marinette?”

“Huh?”

“You’re still stoned. That’s a paper napkin you’re trying to eat.”

“Huh?”

Chloé tugged the napkin out of her girlfriend's mouth, got her to drink some juice, and handed her half of a sandwich. 

“What’s going on out in the world?”

Chloé sighed, fingertips teasing the duvet fabric. “They still haven’t found all of Fangirl's victims. The press is still freaking out that golden boy Adrian Agreste was abducted and almost killed in the confusion. Not a word about Ladybug or Captain Chew-toy dropping out of sight.” She snickered. “The online video of Chat getting rag-dolled through the glass pyramid outside the Louvre has something like a million hits.”

Marinette giggled. Chloé hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing that.

“How’s the leg?”

“Doctors say my jump shot is done for”, Marinette sighed dramatically, back of one hand to her forehead.

“Smart ass.” Chloé smiled, a bit sad.

“Smart enough to say yes to you.”

Chloé brushed a lock of blue-black hair out of Marinette’s eyes. “I shoulda sat on you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Couldn’a saved me if you had.”

“Your mind goes weird places when your stoned, baby.”

Marinette’s hand slid around Chloé’s waist. “I’d rather go somewhere with you.”

Chloé smiled. “Not until you’re better.”

Marinette pouted. “You won’t even help me get into bed so we can watch a movie?”

“I put you in bed, you’re staying there”, Chloé warned. 

“Stay with me.”

Pale blue eyes stared into sapphire. “Don’t play with me, Marinette.” Cautious, on guard. “I’m…a little fragile after…what happened.”

“Is that why I haven’t seen you?” Marinette sounded scared.

Chloé nodded, looking away, thumb flicking a fistful of duvet. Silent. Haunted.

“I spent two days screaming into my pillow. Couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was you, hurt, bleeding. Daddy had his doctor knock me out with something. Two more days zonked out of my head. Bastard. Mommy didn’t give a shit.”

“Chloé. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” A gentle touch startled Chloé, and she realized she’d been running her thumbnail along her opposite arm hard enough to leave an angry welt. 

“I’m scared I’m going to lose you, Marinette.”

Chloé was surprised by the sudden, off balance embrace. “M'not goin’ anywhere.”

“Dammit, DuPain-Chang, you are a serious pain in my ass”, Chloé whispered, returning the embrace. A bit louder, “Alright, Marinette. Let’s get you into bed.”

“Yaaay", softly, giggled. 

It took two attempts, and Chloé bracing her shoulder against Marinette’s shapely, toned bottom from below to get the wounded superheroine up the loft ladder to her queen-sized bed. 

“You're (oof) going on a diet when you’re back on your feet.”

A few minutes effort got Marinette into bed, foot elevated on pillows, remote in hand. 

“I’ll be right back”, Chloé announced. “I’m gonna run to the store, get you some juice and fruit. You’re going to want it in the morning.”

Marinette killed the time channel surfing. Chloé returned with a string bag containing bottles of juice, apples and oranges, and oddly, a toothbrush. Marinette's toothbrush and a plastic tumbler of water were in the hand supporting the shopping bag. “Here. I’m not waking up next to swamp-mouth. Take your meds first.”

“I’ll fall asleep during the movie", Marinette whined.

“Tough.”

Chloé retrieved a singlet from Marinette's chest of drawers downstairs, then stripped out of her street clothes, folding and stacking them neatly.

“My girlfriend has a cute ass”, Marinette giggled, toothbrush in her mouth.

Chloé looked up at nothing. “Ah. The meds have kicked in. Scoot over, bed hog.” Marinette did so after a sip of water to rinse her mouth. Chloé slipped downstairs again, brushed her own teeth, returned and snuggled in beside her raven-haired girlfriend. 

A lingering, sensual kiss, Marinette’s fingers tangled in the hair behind Chloé's left ear. A soft pink tongue darting, tasting, a teasing lick of Chloé's lip.

“You taste like fresh rain." Soft, quiet.

Chloé shivered, inhaling the scent in Marinette's hair. “You smell like a spice cabinet”, Chloé whispered.

Rain pattered on the roof, the only light a single lamp on the lower level, movie forgotten. 

Marinette snuggled close, arm wrapped possessively over Chloé’s belly, head on her shoulder. Dampness on her skin. “You saved me.”

Shifting bodies, leg draping over and between Marinette's, mindful of her injury. “You saved me, baby. More than once.” 

A quiet sigh, Marinette relaxing. “Love you, Chlo.”

Gentle pecking kiss on Marinette’s nose. “Love you too, baby.”

She was already asleep.

*-*-*

Sunlight streamed down through the skylight, Chloé’s hair a pale, glorious halo, the faint golden tint in her complexion highlighted.

Marinette's eyes darted, memorizing every curve, every feature of the visage of the goddess lying beside her.

The alarm sounded, intruding on the perfect morning, Canadian singer Sky crooning how it’s kinda like a love song. Chloé frowned, eyes closed.

“It dies or you do, Mari. Choose.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple untagged cameos.
> 
> I make no apologies for the mayhem you're about to partake of.

October 31

“Can you tell me again why we're dressing up in these ridiculous costumes?”, Marinette huffed as she pulled the snug scarlet bodice decorated with golden stars into place.

“It’s a party, and we were invited", Chloé's voice drifted up from behind the antique three panel dressing screen new to her bedroom.

“You mean you were invited.”

“You’re my ‘plus one’.”

“I’ve never even gone past the American Embassy!”

“Did you remember what I told you?”

“Boots, then bodice”, Marinette nodded. “But I still feel ridiculous in this outfit…”

“This coming from the girl who scampers around on Paris rooftops in a skin-tight ‘shoot-me' suit”, Chloé grinned, stepping from behind the screen. “How do I look, puddin'?”

Marinette looked up from fitting the wide polished metal bracelets to her wrists.

Chloé stood there, blond hair in two ponytails, ends dip-dyed pastel, pink on her right, blue on her left. Artfully applied eyeshadow reversed the colors. A fitted black and red cropped bustier enhanced her already eye-catching cleavage, exposing a toned midriff above skin-tight red and black spandex bootie shorts that did amazing things to her appealing pert bottom. Over-the-knee stockings, black on her right leg, red on the left above Converse hi-tops that once again alternated the color scheme. A narrow black leather collar read ‘Hands off!’ Her lipstick was a screaming harlot red.

Marinette dropped the circlet she’d been holding.

“Woof!”

“Eloquent as ever", Chloé smirked.

Marinette retrieved the circlet and slipped it in place, brushing and adjusting her hair to suit.

“Your hair looks nice down", Chloé observed, running her fingers through the silken blue-black strands.

A quick peck on the cheek. “You can muss me up after the party. We’re going to be late”, Marinette fretted.

*-*-*

“Quit fussing with your top", Chloé murmured.

“You’re not the one who feels like she’s about to pop out and give the American Ambassador a free show!”, Marinette grumbled, adjusting her bosom for what had to be the tenth time. “Honestly, I don’t know how Wonder Woman does it.”

“Chamois.”

“Excuse me?”, Marinette blinked at the tall, black haired woman in the clinging, long-sleeved silk sheath dress the shade of black you’d find in a Victorian-age funeral parlour.

“Chamois around the inner upper edge of the bodice. Works better than double-sided tape”, the woman explained. “And it’s very nice to see some people choose capable examples of responsible behavior to emulate.”

“Hah?”, Chloé blinked, a second sec-petit four almost in her mouth.

“That’s an unusual line for a dress design”, Marinette complimented. 

“Thank you. It’s based on the works of the late illustrator, Charles Addams.”

Chloé swallowed. “Oh my god! Carloyn Jones ‘Morticia’!”, she blurted.

The woman smiled primly, amused. “I was afraid this soirée would be nothing but politicians and penny-pushers. It’s wonderful to meet some of the local population at these events.”

“Penny-pushers?”, Marinette inquired.

“Contractors angling to cash in on the Paris reconstruction effort. All the majors are represented here : Lexcorp, Wayne Enterprises, Oscorp, Stark International. Oh, you might want to keep an eye out for Tony and Bruce. They both can get a little…handsy. Do enjoy the party, though.”

The woman moved away, seeming to float along the floor instead of walking as she mingled with the rest of the guests. 

“Holy shit!”, Chloé gasped.

“Language!”, Marinette hissed.

Chloé rounded to face her girlfriend. “Do you have any idea who that was?!”

“No?”

“Diana of Themyscira!” 

Marinette looked down at herself. “Great. Hello insecurity, nice to see you again.”

“Don’t wallow. It’s not attractive.”

Marinette looked up, mollified, then started, grabbing Chloé’s arm, tugging, pointing.

Chloé turned to look. “No. Way.”

Kagami Tsurugi, elegant in a fitted black tail-coat evening suit with white waistcoat, draped with a scarlet lined black opera cloak, black silk top hat and pointed white domino mask, silver-capped ebony walking stick in hand as a picture-perfect cosplay of the classic anime character Tuxedo Mask, strolling arm in arm with a strikingly athletic Sailor Moon, resplendent in knee-high red boots, snug white satin top decorated with a billowing red bow on the bosom, and daring skirt that was little more than a ruffle of bright Prussian blue. Twin hip-length blonde ponytails swayed and bounced. Scarlet cuffed elbow-length white satin gloves were the final nail in the coffin.

“There’s no justice in this world", Marinette deadpanned.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. His ass looks better than mine in a micro-mini.”

Marinette downed her cocktail in a gulp. “Get in line, bitch.”

*-*-*

“How’s it going, meat-ball head?”

Adrian Agreste, golden boy of the European high-fashion modelling world looked up, eyes closed, counting silently to five, before turning. “Hi, Chloé.”

Kagami merely growled at her one-time rival for Adrian's affections, her fist tightening on her walking stick.

“Down, girl. We come in peace", Chloé smirked. Behind her, a black-haired, domino-masked young man in a sleeveless red tunic, green trunks over black tights, and a hunter green cape circulated in the crowd.

“I’m jealous, Adrian”, Marinette mock-pouted. “I’d never have the courage to wear a skirt that short.”

“Well, it’s thanks to you two that I’m dressed like this”, he pointed out. “Tsu, could you give me and the terrible two here about five minutes alone? I…need to tell them a few things.”

Kagami nodded. “I’ll give you ten.”

The October night was chill on the balcony, even with the lamp-post space heaters blasting. 

Adrian leaned on the marble balustrade. “I moved out.”

“What?!”--"No way!”, Marinette and Chloé gasped at the same time.

“Father was livid. Threatened to cut me off without a centime. I figured why not do it right, and came out.”

“Nope. No way am I doing this without a drink”, Chloé deadpanned. 

“Please", Marinette requested. Chloé nodded and retreated inside. Marinette turned back to Adrian. “I guess this is why we never…you know.”

“Probably. But you were always a great friend. You and Chloé, even when she was a total bitch. Which, incidentally, is why I took her advice once I checked out of the hospital after the fiasco at Montparnasse. Found a no-name tourist hotel, paid cash, and just slept for like, a week. Papillion hasn't even said boo since then, so I figured I earned a little break.”

“And figured out--"

“That I’m as straight as a cork-screw” Adrian finished for her.

“That’s twisted", Marinette grinned. “So you and Kagami…?”

“That’s the weird thing. She’s happier presenting as a guy. So, it works?” 

Marinette looked out into the Halloween night. “I kinda miss running with you, partner.”

“I’m surprised Chloé has kept her mouth shut”, Adrian grimaced.

“Enlightened self-interest. She blabs, her girlfriend meets a grisly demise”, Marinette sighed, chin in her hand as she leaned on the balustrade. “Love makes you do strange things.”

“I…did love you. I guess. In my own way.”

“Took every opportunity to ‘chat’ me up”, Marinette grinned.

“You’re not mad?”

Marinette ‘booped' Adrian on the nose. “No, kitty. You letting me discover the love of my life is the nicest thing you ever did.”

They stared out into the night in companionable silence.

Leather-gloved hands landed on both of their hips, a male body intruding between them.

“Hel-lo, lay-days! Damien Wayne is here to rescue you from boredom!”

“You do know your right hand is copping a feel on a dude's ass, right?” Chloé, behind them, drinks in hand, utterly deadpan.

“…wut?...”

Adrian turned to the young man dressed as Robin, the Boy Wonder, addressing him in an almost-falsetto feminine voice. “Oh, Damien! You’ve touched me in ways only my manager Bruno ever did! Take me in your strong arms, lover!”

Five minutes later, Kagami merely nodded when Diana of Themycira arched an eyebrow at the trio. 

“What the fuck did you say to Bruce Wayne’s heir? He’s trying to blowtorch his hand off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, all good (bad?) Things must come to an end, and this one must too.
> 
> I had a hell of a lot of fun with this.
> 
> If you want to take a peek at a new take on the Chlonette relationship dynamic, I present 'Trial by Solitude', over on my page.
> 
> Your comments and kudos drive a writer like me. I thank you all.
> 
> Be well, stay safe, drink some water.


End file.
